Incarceration
by TobiDei Doom
Summary: A man of briliance, The Warden is the soul creator of Superjail. But what really goes on behind closed doors?


Incarceration

_Incarceration. _Defined by Merriam Webster's Dictionary as '1: to put in prison  
2: to subject to confinement'. _Imprisonment. _Synonym for incarcerate. _Prison or Jail. _Street terms are 'Clink, slammer, hell house…' All of which sound awfully dreadful. _Imprisonment, Incarceration, Jail_… All words you would be _familiar_ with if your crime has been dealt with by the judgment system near you. Oh, what is that you say? Didn't do anything _wrong?_ Just killed one man, you say. No big deal.

No. Big. Deal?

Good thing you're going to be in the right place soon, for I do not wish harm upon your poorly covered crime. I hope to see you soon. I'll be waiting for you. And so will all of us here.

~*~

"_Ah, Alice! How very nice to see you~!" _the Warden spoke into the mirror, his voice trickling with lust. It was barely before dawn, before the sky itself rose to meet the day. His office window looked out upon the drowsy, sleeping prison below with tired dusty windows that needed cleaning before the morning awoke. The Warden smiled at the mirror once more, loosening his tie, pulling his button flannel shirt down in a seductive way. Though he was already wake with his usual attire, he had fun in the dark alone in his office. He tipped off his hat and rolled it off his shoulder onto his desk. He returned his full attention to the looking glass he set up even _earlier_ that morning. A smirk inched over his mouth and his eyes sunk to gaze into the mirror, into the viewer of his tantalizing stare. At least, that's what he thought it was. He inspected his face for any blemishes, bruises, and imperfections. The Warden never found anything wrong in these checks, for he _was_ the picture of perfection. He ran his hand through his thinning hair, only frowning at the lack of hair. But that didn't seem to bother the rather perky man. He believed to strongly in himself, and felt only a twinge of doubt pinch his growing and ever present ego. "How you look lovely this evening, my dear…"

"What?"

A grumbled, dark tone of voice slid into the Warden's ears with much surprise. "ALICE!" he screeched in shock as he swiveled his body to look at the only entrance into the room. A silence spread in the room as the Warden searched the room for his cherished jewel. But his search was fruitless, as it appeared Alice was nowhere to be seen. Though the Warden did choose to wake early to be alone in his solitary office he never thought morning sickness would ever graze over his judgment. But what did that matter now; he could care less if his mind was losing stitches at such a trivial time like this. This was his time. This was Warden time, and if anyone tried to ruin his most precious time, they'd be in for the fires of hell and fury to wash over them, their dignity and self confidence would be stripped off their emotional skeletons like acid and their minds singed with the fires of Hades. But nothing disturbed it, so he looked back into the reflective surface of the mirror and only practiced his precious lines over and over. Finding new ways to say the word Alice in the most interesting of tones, "Alice,_alice, A-ah-lice!_" Oh how that name made him tingle, how the mere mentioning of her name made him want to sprout wings and fly into the bliss that was the sky. He could see her name painted into the walls, the very lenses of his glasses! The joy of his crush, his _Mon amour_, only made his every day better. Though this may sound like a lonely way to live, being in love with a must divine beauty that found absolutely no interest with him what so ever, he felt that it did not matter for his jail also gave him unlimited amounts of entertainment and excitement.

His eyes drifted to the window and he smiled almost triumphantly. "Good morning my child," he said softly as he arose away from the mirror to walk to the window. He peered down upon the spectacular view of it all, and not in the least bit wondered if he had squandered his life with making such a fantastic feet of engineering. No, he felt he had spent every token of his life very well, though to another foolish being may seem like he had spent his life on quarter machine prizes, rings, fake goo, and eyeballs. No, he saw all of it with the most decency, and if he ever did get a ring, a thing of fake goo, and some eyeballs, he would only see something to change it into. What he couldn't stretch his mind over only limited him. And with that, he sighed and sat at his desk, and the task he had only delayed with his morning… rituals still lay before him on the desk. A paper with fine print reading and thick vocabulary only appealing to a left brained buffoon lay before the already bored man. He placed his finger over it, and dragged it across his desk like a plaything, imitating crashing noises and other foolish games he made out of an important document. For all he saw was a piece of paper. And this piece of paper had many things it could be. Oh, what's on the paper? His mind snapped back, and with the utmost boredom, he picked it up and began reading it.

"This document pertains to…" blah blah blah blah. His mind only drifted farther and farther from the text as he went on. Why was he reading this garbage? He was to be making the world better, not to read over trivial… Paperwork. He pushed the document to the side and sat back in his chair, peering up at the almost vintage clock on the wall. On the hour, two comical characters would escape from the clock and chase each other around, like a prisoner and Warden. But the Warden had no need to chase anyone. He had Jailbot for that. He tapped his foot on the ground slightly and sat up once more, and walked back to the window. He was in turmoil. He was bored.


End file.
